


Ludum Mortiferum

by Arcticmist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Child Death, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Season/Series 07, Serial Killers, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, casefile
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9181357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcticmist/pseuds/Arcticmist
Summary: In the quiet, rural Appalachian foothills, a horrifying evil preys on children.  Desperately looking for answers, local law enforcement enlists the help of the brilliant former FBI profiler Fox Mulder and his partner Dana Scully.  Although the agents are accustomed to dealing with the strange and horrific, nothing can prepare them for what they will find.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I used an online dictionary to translate the title of this fic. “Ludum Mortiferum” means “Deadly Game” in Latin. I took the word “mortiferum” from “peccatum mortiferum,” which refers to one of the seven deadly sins. Since I don’t know Latin, I cannot guarantee the accuracy of this translation. 
> 
> This story draws inspiration from the I Hunt Killers book series by Barry Lyga, particularly events occurring in the second book (Game). This fic, however, does not correlate directly with that fictional universe, and you do not have to read those books to understand this story. I do recommend reading them though, and if you do, you might have a bit of an advantage to figuring out the tricks I have tucked up my sleeve. 
> 
> I do not claim ownership to The X-Files or Barry Lyga’s novels in any way, shape, or form. This story primarily takes place in rural Southern Ohio, and I have tried to represent this part of the country as accurately as possible. 
> 
> A big thanks to Grace, @how-I-met-your-mulder, for betareading!

_ March 30, 2000 _

_ Pike County, Ohio _

In the distance, a crow cawed as the shadowy figure stared at the young boy riding his skateboard.  The child was alone, unprotected, and vulnerable- a perfect target.  Silently observing, the killer clutched a sharp blade.  

A recently formulated mantra echoed through the killer’s mind.   _Code 1-35.  Code 1-35.  Code 1-35.  Whatever happens do not forget, Code 1-35.  The stakes are too high to forget.  Code 1-35.  Code 1-35.  Code 1-35._

      Carefully, the killer moved from the secure hiding spot in the bushes.  The fading light of dusk guided him to the target.  The boy never suspected his closely approaching doom. 

_Crack!_ The killer stepped on a stick lying on the old, light gray pavement.  To this individual, the noise sounded horrifically loud like a hundred bombs detonating in the middle of a rock concert.  However, the boy didn’t seem to notice.  When one is breaking the rules, any disturbances seem much more severe.  The killer was thankful for this fact.  There was no room for sloppy mistakes.  Failure meant death constrained to a table with a needle in your arm after years wasting away in a cell.  The killer intended to maintain freedom. 

Out of the corner of his eye, the perpetrator briefly noticed a familiar blonde girl perched in a tree.  She was clearly writing something in a black notebook.  The killer bristled in frustration.  Why couldn’t that annoying bitch just let him murder in peace? 

Ignoring the girl, he turned his focus back onto the small child.  He had curly brown hair and wore a t-shirt with a Superman logo.  The killer smiled, his excitement growing.  Placing the knife in its sheath, the murderer launched his body at the boy, grabbing him in a chokehold.  The skateboard slipped from under the kid’s feet, rolling out of sight. 

“Don’t scream,” The man muttered into the boy’s ear.  However, the victim struggled to cry for help as a sweaty hand clamped over his mouth.  Confusion enveloped the child’s mind.  Who was this man?  What had he done wrong?  Why was this happening?  Feeling his captor’s latex gloves, the boy wanted to mention his allergy to the synthetic material.  It didn’t cross his mind that he would perish before a rash could break out.  At the age of seven, one does not usually consider death.  A kidnapping was not too wide a stretch of the imagination, but a cold-blooded murder remained unthinkable.

Quickly, the adult wrapped silver duct tape around the child’s mouth and head.  Slamming the victim’s fragile body to the floor, the killer slashed his knife across the boy’s chest.  Frenzied, he repeatedly continued this action.  Sometime during this horrific, bloody attack, the boy perished.  Even though he was dead, the fun had barely begun. 

Moving quickly, the killer grabbed the boy’s body and carried it to his former hiding place among the bushes.  Although there were no people around, it made the ghastly deed seem more secure.  The killer sliced off the boy’s nose and left thumb, shoving them in his pocket.  He then stripped the body down, dehumanizing him.  He was no longer a human being.  The child was simply an animal, a hunk of meat.  The predator had successfully captured his prey, and now the killer could finally complete his task.

_ March 31, 2000 _

_ Pike County Sheriff’s Office _

In his twenty years on the job, Sheriff Emerson Lee had never seen such a horrific crime.  A balding man in sixties, Lee had dedicated his life to protecting the citizens of his community.  While he had begun as an idealistic young officer, he was now a cynical, hardened veteran close to retirement. 

Sitting across from Lee, Sheriff Phil Tully from Athens waited.  On a normal day, Lee would have looked forward to meeting with Tully.  His son and Phil developed a close friendship during their days at Ohio State University in the early ‘90s.  The recently elected Athens sheriff was highly intelligent and serious, qualities that made him a skilled cop.

“It’s great to see you, Phil,”  Lee began.  “I wish the circumstances were different, but here we are.  So, I am under the impression you believe this case is connected to the serial killer operating in the region.  Has the media given ‘em a corny nickname yet?”

Tully responded, “Not that I’m aware of.  And, yes, I do think the killings are connected.”

“Why?”

“Well, the death follows the killers date pattern.  We were expecting another victim last night.  It fits the killer’s M.O. and signature.  Victim is a young, elementary school student…”

Not wanting to hear the lurid details of the case again, Lee waved for the younger man to stop.  “Yes, yes, I know how it all lines up.  I just wanted to make sure you were up to date on everything.”

“I made sure I knew all the details before meeting with you.  I spoke with Officer Goodwin.  Do I understand correctly that he was the first on the scene?” 

“Yes, he was the first.  He has a daughter about the victim’s age.  Seeing the body nearly tore him up.  I sent him home for the day.  A sight like that is a parent’s worst nightmare.” 

Tully nodded in agreement, thinking of his two young children at home.  After every death, he empathized with the families.  It would be unthinkable to lose such bright young lives filled with limitless, unknown potential. 

“Has the family been contacted yet?”

Grimly, Lee nodded as he checked the time on his watch.  “I have to be at a taskforce briefing rather soon.  You should come too.  We’ll need someone from your precinct, and I can’t think of anyone better.”

“Of course,” Tully responded.  He had already expected Lee to include him in the taskforce.  Actually, he wouldn’t put it past the older man to drag him on the case by force.

“Let’s go then.”

_ March 31, 2000 _

_ Taskforce Headquarters _

Special Agent Oliver Atkins sat at the head of the meeting table as the members of the force filed in the conference room.  The look on everyone’s faces was grim.  As the most experienced member and de facto leader, Atkins was determined to crack this case soon. 

Beside him, Agent Leung, a slender Asian woman, sipped her coffee.  Her dark eyes darted around the table as she thought deeply.  Atkins didn’t like Leung much, she was far too pushy and wouldn’t take no for an answer.  If he didn’t put his foot down, she would certainly run the operation solely by herself.  Although some might accuse him of misogyny, Atkins did not think a woman could emotionally handle the strain of heading this investigation.    

Calling the meeting to order, Atkins asked the newcomer to introduce himself.  He did not really care who was sent to join the taskforce, and in his mind, the FBI could do so much better than the local law enforcement officials could.  Still, protocol and courtesy ruled above all.

      “Welcome to the taskforce.  I am Special Agent Oliver Atkins from the FBI.  I am joined by my colleagues…”  Not bothering to conceal his boredom, Atkins introduced the various personnel.

“As you are all aware, another victim was discovered last night.”  Atkins turned to pass out the packets of information.  To his frustration, Leung had already circulated the documents around the circular table.  Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to be in charge?

“Seth Belser, a seven year old Caucasian male, was found murdered on a rural stretch of road in Pike County.  Death was the result of several slash wounds to the chest.  Along with matching the killer’s pattern of time, a numerical carving was found on the corpse.  This time the numbers were 1-35…”  The taskforce leader continued to walk the investigators through the numerous grisly details of the case.

After Atkins opened the meeting for discussion, Leung immediately declared, “I think we need more help from within the Bureau.”

“Why?”  Atkins asked, raising his bushy eyebrows.  “There are five perfectly competent FBI agents here already.”

“I think,” Leung paused while adjusting her black-rimmed glasses. “We need to ask Agent Mulder for his assistance with a new profile.”

Atkins chuckled, “Agent Mulder?  Who works on the X-Files?”

“Yes,” Leung stated confidently,“You and I have both have seen his criminal profiles before.  The man might be a bit of a joke, but he’s undoubtedly smart.  If anyone can solve the case, he can.  Plus, his partner is a pathologist, isn’t she?  That could help considerably.”

“You want to get the Spookies involved?”  the senior agent scoffed.

“Yes, I can go and ask them myself.”

“Agent Leung, you're not possibly suggesting there is something paranormal about these killings?”

“Of course not, and I’m sure Mulder will realize that too.  Look, these murders have been occurring since February, and we’re no closer to nabbing the sick bastard who killed those poor kids.  For the family’s sake, we should use every possible strategy.  Maybe they won’t even agree, but it’s worth a shot.”

Atkins sighed, “Alright.  But if this damages the integrity of the investigation, it’s your head on the line.”

_ April 1, 2000 _

_ Basement Office of the J. Edgar Hoover Building _

“As I was saying,” Mulder spoke, “We clearly have reason to believe these crimes were committed by a werewolf.”

Scully shook her head, “Mulder, that’s impossible.”

“Why not?”

“Because werewolves aren’t real.  The werewolf legend arose from the effects of medieval peasants eating grain infected with ergot. This had effects similar to LSD, often contributing to mass hysteria and delusions.  After repeated exposure, it is not unthinkable for a whole community to be certain of the existence of werewolves.  After an ergot infestation in the 50’s, a number of French citizens had visions of being attacked by strange beasts,” Scully explained.

“Scully, why must you drain the fun out of every legend and myth in existence?”

“I’m just stating the logical, scientific facts, Mulder.  How long have you known me?”

“Long enough to trust my theories,” Mulder responded.

Rolling her eyes, the petite red-haired agent crossed her arms.  “Seriously, Mulder, why do I put up with this?”

“Because you love me,” Mulder playfully bantered. 

“Oh, do I?”  Scully smirked.

“Seemed like it last night,” Mulder responded.

In silence, the partners gazed at each other as the door opened.  Walking in, Agent Leung certainly noticed the palpable sexual tension.

_  Geez, _ Leung thought,  _ No wonder the betting pool on these two is so high.  Only an idiot would think there isn’t something going on. _

“Oh, Agent Leung,” Mulder greeted. “You’re here early?”

      “Well, have I interrupted something?”  Leung responded. 

“No,” Scully responded.  “So, you’re here to talk about the serial killings in Ohio?”

“Yes, I assume you’ve read over the information I provided.”

“We have,” Mulder responded.  “I’m sure you are aware that this case is definitely not an X-File.”

“I know.  There is nothing supernatural about this case.  It’s just…”  Leung broke off, fearing rejection.

“A matter of pure evil,” Scully finished for her.    

“Yes.  The taskforce thought it would be a good idea to seek our perspective skills in profiling and pathology to help catch the killer.  We wouldn’t tell the media this, but we’ve frankly hit a dead end,” Leung explained.

“Are the current autopsies insufficient?”  Scully inquired.  Given her prior with serial killers, she wasn’t exactly eager to go hunting for one again.

“No, but another opinion wouldn’t hurt,” Leung responded.

“I would be fine with helping,” Scully spoke.  “But, in the end, it’s up to Mulder.”  She recognized Leung was really after Mulder’s expertise instead of her own.

Scully’s use of the word “fine” set off alarm bells in Mulder’s head.  If he had learned one thing after seven years working with Dana Scully, the word “fine” typically indicated otherwise.  Therefore, Mulder requested a brief moment to speak with Scully privately.

“Are you sure that you are okay with this?”  Mulder inquired.

“It’s part of my job.  When I joined the FBI, I knew I would be dealing with unpleasant cases that could cause unpleasant memories to resurface,” Scully explained.  Pushing her own nervousness aside, she studied her partner’s body language.  She knew Mulder’s own problems associated with criminal profiling quite well.

“I really considered declining,” Mulder sighed.  “But part of me thinks that I need to help catch this murderer.” 

“Why is that?”

“One of his victims was an eight-year old girl named Samantha,” Mulder admitted.  “I can’t help but think of my sister and of the pain my family went through not knowing exactly what happened to her.  No one else deserves to go through that.”

Scully nodded. “Mulder, she’s not your sister.  Catching this Samantha’s killer isn’t going to bring your Samantha back.”

“I know,” Mulder muttered.  Getting out of his chair, he started walking towards the door so Leung could reenter.  He stopped close to Scully.  Gently, he reached out and touched her cheek.

“I know this will be hard for both of us.  But I’m only in if you are,” Mulder assured her.

“I would follow you anywhere, Mulder,” Scully breathed, grasping his hand with her own.  A few silent minutes passed.  Neither agent needed to speak.  They had reached their decision.

Walking away from Scully, Mulder opened the door.  “Agent Leung, my partner and I are on the case.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own the X-Files nor do I own Gold Star Chili. I have also not been paid to endorse this restaurant in any way. I just love Cincinnati chili. I recommend buying it at either Skyline or Gold Star if you’re in the area. If anyone’s interested, I can definitely an awesome recipe if you’ve never had it. Last time I was in the Cinci area, there was a Gold Star at the airport. If it was not there in 2000, I claim artistic license. 
> 
> And, yes, Matt Lauer really did graduate from the University of Ohio. 
> 
> Passing references to Irresistible and Orison are found in this chapter.
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter, but I really wanted to update. I hope to post more frequently!

_ April 2, 2000 _

_ Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport _

“So, they’re expecting the next death sometime in the evening two days from now,” Mulder informed Scully as the two agents sat down at a table with their orders of five-way chili served over spaghetti.  “So far the killer has been rather consistent.  He alternates days, killing on Tuesday one week and Thursday the next.”

“Does the taskforce have any theories to explain this pattern?”  Scully asked, garnishing her dish with oyster crackers.

“No.  A serial killer’s pattern rarely makes sense to outside observers.  But to the murderer, it seems extremely logical.  That’s part of the reason it’s so important to get into their heads, you have to think like a serial murderer to catch one.”  He shuddered slightly.  He dreaded exploring the mind of this sick bastard.

Scully immediately deciphered her partner’s body language.  “I wish you didn’t have to go inside his mind too,”  She couldn’t fathom the difficulty involved in bending one’s mind to comprehend the perpetrator of such senseless, malignant acts.  Reassuringly, she placed a hand on Mulder’s arm.

During the flight from D.C., Scully had thought about the victims.  They were all young elementary school students with their entire lives ahead of them.  But now there would be no graduations, no fulfillment of dreams, no marriages, and no chances to start families of their own.  Wincing internally, she recalled Emily’s tragic demise and the failed IVF treatments.  Her own opportunity for motherhood had been stolen.  The suffering of the victims’ parents, in her mind, wasn’t much different from her own. 

“Well, regardless, we’re driving out to Athens, Ohio- home of Ohio State University, which also happens to be the alma mater of _Today Show_ anchor Matt Lauer,” Mulder commented.

“And that’s important because?”  Scully inquired, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

      He pouted, “Am I not allowed to know fun trivia about the places we travel?”

“Of course you are.  Don’t be ridiculous, Mulder.”  Scully rolled her eyes at her partner’s remark as they began to discuss work once more.

Later, as Mulder and Scully traveled in a dark blue rental car towards their destination, they reviewed the details of the case so far.

“So, all of our victims are white children between the ages of 6 and 10 from Southern Ohio,” Mulder spoke, flipping through a stack of paperwork as Scully drove down the deserted highway.  They had arrived in a beautiful area of the country covered in rolling hills and dense forests.  Occasionally, they would pass an ugly, rundown small town.  The poverty and stark desolation of the region starkly contrasted its magnificent natural beauty. 

Mulder continued, “The first victim, ten-year old Michel Friedell of Athens, was killed on the evening of Tuesday, February 8th.  Since then, there has been a death once a week.”

“Right,” Scully remarked.  “We already discussed the pattern of deaths.  How are they all connected?”

“All of the kids have been subdued quickly, likely attacked from behind.  They have been discovered at the approximate location of their deaths along rural country roads.”  Pausing, Mulder contemplatively tapped his fingers on the dashboard while starting out the window.  “He started duct taping their mouths shut after the death of the second victim, Austin Marean from Pike County.  After the third victim, he started stealing the kids’ right thumbs…” Mulder’s voice faltered as he uneasily continued.  “The fourth victim was the first girl and…”  Mulder broke off, grimacing.  

“I know how he’s escalated, Mulder,”  Scully sighed. “You don’t have to tell me.  I read the files.  The evidence points towards necrophilia.”  She paused before continuing bitterly, “I’m assuming we can just call it that now.  It’s a new millennium, and I doubt the Bureau will be upset if we use the scientifically correct terminology instead of ‘death fetishist’.”  Shuddering, Scully recalled the Pfaster case.  How she had killed him after his second attempt on her life.  That infamous Catholic sense of guilt haunted her mind even though she knew she had acted in self-defense. 

_Please don’t let this killer be anything like Pfaster,_ Scully thought in vain.  She knew it was likely to be just as bad.  Of course, this perp would most likely not attack her due to his clear preference for children.  But how could they be certain?

      Recalling how their previous encounters with a “death fetishist” had affected Scully’s psyche, Mulder placed a hand over hers.  He stared at his partner with concern-filled eyes.

“You know Scully, if this case is too much, please let me know,” Mulder said sympathetically.

“I’ll be fine, Mulder,”  Scully promised.  After taking a deep breath, she returned to their previous conversation  “Anyway, as you were saying, the fifth victim marks the first occasion in which a foot was stolen.” 

“The only scrap of DNA evidence found at any of the crime scenes was semen found during an autopsy of victim number six, a boy named Blake Bissell.”  Mulder said.  “Victim 7 had an ear removed.  There appears to be no new signs of escalation on the most recent victim.”

“Maybe he’s slowing down,” Scully suggested.

“I doubt it.  He’s probably  just satisfied for the time being.  Unless we catch him, his urges will eventually drive him to kill again.”

“I don’t think the investigative team is anywhere close to catching the killer,” Scully sighed. 

“Well this bastard hasn’t gone up against the X-Files division yet, has he?”

      They smiled at each other as the car continued down the winding road.

_ April 2, 2000 _

_ Somewhere in Southern Ohio _

The killer noticed the lanky teenage girl following him.  Damn!  How long had she been stalking him?  He wasn’t a child, didn’t need supervision.  And he especially didn't need to have the Princess follow him. 

After checking to make sure no one was around, he called out, “There you are.  We need to talk in private.”

The girl nodded walking over towards where the man stood by his car.  After they got in the vehicle where no one could hear them, he barked, “What do you think you’re doing, Minnie Mouse?”

      Scrunching up her face in disgust, the young woman responded, “Don’t call me that.  It isn’t my name.  You know damn well my name is Jasmin.”

Irritably, he grunted.  “Why are you following me?”

“I’m observing,” she spoke plainly.  “I always observe these things.”

“And how old are you?”

“Seventeen, but I know much more than you ever will.”

Jasmin’s arrogant demeanor infuriated the killer.  She was clearly cocky and knew he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her.  The repercussions of such an act would be horrific.

“Well today’s not the day,” he growled.“So what do you want?”

“I have directions for you,” she answered.

“Directions?  In a Walmart parking lot?  You dumb bitch!  There are security cameras everywhere.  You might think you’re invincible, but…”

Jasmine broke him off while handing him a folded-up notecard.  “They can’t see anything.  Your windows are tinted.  Besides, you have to take risks if you want rewards.  This is a risk.  Why do you think I came instead of the Disciple?  Instead of the Senator?”

The lanky teenager flung open the door of the passenger’s seat and got out.  “Don’t disrespect me again.  I can make you disappear.”  She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”  With that threat, she briskly strutted off.  


	3. Author's Note

Author’s Note: How long as it been since I’ve written this story? Too long. I don’t have any excuses apart from laziness, writer’s block, and a hectic schedule. I think I now have the energy to continue! However, this story is still on an indefinite pause. I want to finish it and then post it in chunks. I think that will be a better way for me to actually be able to finish a multi chapter fic. Plus, I need to organize my notes a bit.


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